


The Fine Art of French Loss

by krisherdown



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisherdown/pseuds/krisherdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gael knows what to do when one of the other French players loses an important match... but the rules must eventually be altered.  Takes place the day of Tsonga's match against Federer at 2013 French Open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fine Art of French Loss

**Author's Note:**

> This got life as an as-yet-unposted Travelogue Anthology entry for Richard/Julien in London. But the series of close matches the French guys have played at the French Open just could not be ignored.

"I need your help," Gael says by way of a greeting before storming into Gilles' house.  "Actually, you may have already _helped_ so the plan could become quite fun."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"We're watching Jo's match against Roger."  
  
"Okay.  Fine."  Gilles begins to clear off the couch, assorted tennis gear strewn about.  
   
"At Richard's house."  
  
Gilles stops what he's doing and lets out a chuckle.  "I'm pretty certain _that_ is impossible."  
  
"I'm not joking, Gillou."  Gilles looks up, Gael's expression matching those words.  "Look, you and I both had bad losses but neither of us should have even been in that position so it's not a big deal.  There... are too many losses.  He really thought that stupid fourth round streak would be over.  Combine that with _certain players_ who were rooting for Stan..."  
  
"I don't think I'm the best person for this endeavor.  What about Benny?"  
  
"Yeah, if I had any clue where Benny is, he'd be joining us on the road trip.  But I cannot control when Jo's match starts so it'll have to be you as my wingman."  
  
"Don't say that word.  It sounds more like I'm helping you pick up someone at a bar."  
  
"In a manner of speaking, that's exactly what we're doing."  
  
Gilles doesn't figure out what Gael means until he reaches Gael's car and sees a case of wine.  When he settles into the passenger seat, Gilles asks, "How, exactly, do you propose we do this?"  
  
Gael pulls away from the house and starts talking fast.  "I distract him.  You slip past and hijack his TV.  Anything would be better than whatever depressing movie he's watching."  
  
Gilles interrupts to ask, "What makes you think that's what he's doing?"  
  
Gael tilts his head and glances toward Gilles before refocusing on the road.  "This is what he's always done.  Unfortunately.  There are times I get it because, well..."  
  
"He screwed up."  
  
"That's why _I_ am distracting him and you're keeping your mouth shut.  Now, he should be enjoying our boy Jo step up and take this opportunity to beat Roger.  Your match showed Roger is not invincible."  
  
Gilles lets a few minutes of silence descend in the car as he tries to figure out the best way to express his point.  When they're clear of any traffic, he asks, "What makes you think he can't change?  In the last year, he's been less... withdrawn, I suppose.  You haven't been around much so you wouldn't..."  
  
"Richard is still predictable in some respects.  I can tell when he's just gotten off the phone with Rafa because he seems to add on a new superstition.  I can tell when he's going to dig out that stupid boring red shirt.  I know when he's going to complain about..."  
  
Gilles takes out his phone and begins a text: _monf on loose. bware. comin ur way. stay low._  
  
Gael stops his train of thought to snap, "You're warning him."  
  
"I promise you I am not warning Richie.  You think I should watch your drive?   Better off not."  
  
"You don't want Timothee to inherit your lying habit."  But instead of allowing Gilles to reply, Gael blasts the music so the beat takes over the car.  "I'm ignoring you now in favor of my new jam."  
  
Gilles flips him off then closes his eyes.  It's better to just listen to the beat than watch Gael try to groove and drive at the same time.  At least he's not swerving this time.  
  
Gael waits until his "new jam" is over before lowering the volume.  He says softly, "Don't worry.  Jo will avenge your loss.  He's good to you like that."  
  
"I'm not especially worried.  Jo doesn't linger over losses.  He prefers cuddling up under a blanket with me afterwards."  
  
"What?! See, now I really feel left out.  So cold."  
  
"You prefer being loud and obnoxious so he therefore doesn't go to you."  Gilles is smiling as he says that, causing Gael to shove his leg.  
  
"Why does Jo get such special treatment from _you_?" Gael is back to serious mode.  "He thinks I can't do comfort?"  
  
Gilles knows that Gael does not like being left out, so he won't admit that this really bothers him.  He waits for a stop before answering.  "No, you're the one he goes to the following day to start him back on the right track.  We have different roles, that's all."  Gilles then realizes what else this means just as they approach the destination.  "And that is why we're barging into Richard's house.  Of course.  Jo _lets_ you entertain while you have to practically force yourself through to get a glimmer of a smile from him right now."  
  
Gael parks the car, then points to Gilles to get the case.  "Do not question me on this, Gillou.  I know what is needed."  
  
Gilles waits until Gael is walking up the path and sending a text before letting out a snicker.  He grabs hold of the wine, making sure he has a grip.  
  
Richard opens the door, shaking his head before Gael even gets a word out.  Gilles cannot help but notice that Richard is covering his mouth to keep from smiling.  Gael says, "Come on.  You're going to turn me away?  You know that's not how I roll.  We are intending to enjoy Jo's match here on your television and that's how it goes."  
  
"Maybe I have other plans that you're interrupting," Richard tries to point out, but he's waving behind Gael's back toward Gilles, both already familiar with what's next.  
  
"What was I ruining?"  Gael points to the bathrobe Richard is wearing.  "You were moping in bed watching some horrid sappy film that nobody cared about twenty years ago."  
  
Gilles walks past with the wine, Richard nodding his way as a greeting, then continues to Gael, "What if I told you that is somewhat inaccurate?"  
  
"Were you in bed?" Gael challenges.  
  
"Yes, I was but you seem to think that things can't change because I'll have you know I wasn't..."  
  
"Need help?" Julien whispers in Gilles' ear.  Gilles chuckles but nods as Julien sets out some glasses on the table.  "I brought over some of that Swiss chocolate he loves, which will go nicely with this."  
  
Gilles glances toward the door, then mutters when Julien returns with said box of chocolate, "Sorry for ruining your plans."  
  
"He did enjoy having breakfast in bed.  Enjoyed the _rest_ of the treat afterwards as well... until you sent me that text."  
  
That's when Gael notices Gilles has been talking to someone.  "Wha-" then turns toward Richard, who is focused on counting the tiles on the ceiling.  "How long has this... seriously?  Him?"  
  
"Wow.  Thanks for _that_ vote of confidence," Julien remarks.  He settles on the couch and searches for the button on the remote to turn on the television.  
  
"When..."  
  
Richard mutters, "Bronze medal match," then plops down on his couch and snatches the remote from Julien's hand.  "You are so terrible with electronics," before getting to the tennis match by pressing two buttons.  
  
Gilles looks toward Gael and smiles brightly.  Gael glares then says, "So does everyone know but me?"  
  
"Probably.  I mean," Gilles turns to Julien, "No offense but you're also terrible at keeping secrets."  
  
"To be fair," Julien says, nudging Richard's side, "this one would have given it away anyway just by being in a good mood right now."  
  
Richard picks at the remains of the box of chocolate.  "Rather tough to say because you are so animated about everything."  
  
"Eh.  You love that about me anyway so don't try to pretend otherwise."  Julien takes hold of a piece in the corner of the box and waves it in front of Richard's face before plopping it in his own mouth.  
  
Richard begins to laugh, then swats Julien's hand away from the box.  "Are you sure you're the oldest in the room?  So immature."  
  
Gael whispers to Gilles, "I think he's doing a better job than me at cheering up.  Maybe I am no longer needed for that role."  
  
Gilles pulls on Gael's hand as they join on the couch.  "I tell you what.  You can cheer me up.  I lost the French crowd to Federer after all.  Let's have some wine and enjoy Jo defending my...no, all our... honors."  
  
Gael considers that, then takes a glass and holds it in the air. "To Jo!"  
  
Three more glasses join Gael's in the air as they all chant, "To Jo!"


End file.
